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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29089839">look in my eyes (and know i'll always stay)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/legere_et_scribere_amo/pseuds/legere_et_scribere_amo'>legere_et_scribere_amo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Arthur Finds Out About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Canon Era, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Magic Revealed, Platonic Love, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Trust, technically</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:01:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,246</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29089839</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/legere_et_scribere_amo/pseuds/legere_et_scribere_amo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur knew. Of course he did. How couldn’t he?</p><p>He hadn’t always known. At first, the mere idea had seemed ridiculous: Merlin—his trusted servant, his companion, his friend—a sorcerer? It couldn’t be true. He desperately needed to get some sleep, if his crazy thoughts were any indication, he thought.</p><p>--</p><p>or, how Arthur comes to the realization that Merlin has magic (and what he plans to do about it)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin &amp; Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), kind of? - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>368</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>look in my eyes (and know i'll always stay)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from the song "Run Away" by Ben Platt<br/>--<br/>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur knew. Of course he did. How couldn’t he?</p><p>He hadn’t always known. At first, the mere idea had seemed ridiculous: Merlin—his trusted servant, his companion, his friend—a sorcerer? It couldn’t be true. He desperately needed to get some sleep, if his crazy thoughts were any indication, he thought.</p><p>But the next morning, going about his normal daily routine after a restless night, the idea kept nagging him, and no matter how stubbornly Arthur tried to ignore it, the thought refused to leave his mind.</p><p>Because, even though the idea seemed ludicrous and even though he would never have believed anyone who accused Merlin of sorcery—hell, he hadn’t even believed Merlin himself the time he had confessed to having magic in front of the entire court—it made sense. It would explain a lot. </p><p>How Merlin had been able to save his life, the very week they first met. How Merlin had known about the poisoned chalice during King Bayard’s visit, about Valiant’s enchanted shield, about the risks of killing a unicorn, about Lady Catrina being a troll… The list could go on.</p><p>On top of that there was the number of bandits suddenly letting go of their swords or of branches falling off of trees, conveniently never hitting any knights of Camelot, but also never missing any attackers. </p><p>Not to mention the fact that this only ever happened when Merlin was with them.</p><p>Of course, in hindsight this all seems so much clearer than it had been to Arthur at the time. Especially when, while having all these ideas and thoughts swimming through his head, he was with Merlin. </p><p>Merlin, who was probably the clumsiest person in all of Albion and who laughed and smiled at him and who never hesitated telling Arthur exactly what he thought. </p><p>Merlin, whose eyes shone bright with so much emotion, surely he could never keep anything secret, let alone something as big as being a sorcerer in Camelot and using magic on a regular basis. </p><p>Merlin, who was the least evil person Arthur had ever met, could simply not possess magic. Because magic was evil, and dirty, and it corrupted everything that was good and pure and innocent.</p><p>Merlin and magic were as different as night and day.</p><p>Or not.</p><p>Because on top of all the random knowledge of magic Merlin apparently had, now that Arthur started paying attention, there were even more unexplained happenings that he normally would’ve just shrugged off.</p><p>One of these more notable incidents was a few days after the idea had first crossed his mind, when Arthur had been sitting at his table, eating his dinner and watching Merlin tend to different areas of his chambers.</p><p>If Merlin noticed Arthur’s eyes following him the entire time, he gave no indication. On the contrary, Merlin had gone about his work, picking up discarded clothes, tidying up, without his usual chatter.</p><p>He had been quiet for most of the afternoon, Arthur <strike>worried</strike> thought. And absent for most of the morning.</p><p>According to Gaius, Merlin had been at the tavern, but he hadn’t been. Arthur had actually gone looking for him, had asked around, but to no avail. No one had seen him all day. Why would Gaius lie about Merlin’s whereabouts? Or had Merlin even lied to Gaius? </p><p>Lost in thought, Arthur reached for a fruit from the bowl in the middle of the table, his elbow colliding with his goblet by accident.</p><p>Arthur only had time to breathe in sharply as he watched the intricate crystal cup—a gift from Morgana—tumble over the edge of the table. Regret washed over him immediately; he could already imagine the pieces of broken glass scattered on the ground. Why had he put it down so close to the edge of the table?</p><p>He waited for the telltale noise of shattering glass, but it didn’t come. Instead, when he looked down, the cup lay there unbroken, in pristine condition. In the corner of his eye he perceived a movement and, once he turned his head in its direction, he could see Merlin turn around swiftly, standing again with his back to Arthur.</p><p>Returning his gaze to the cup, Arthur carefully picked it up, as though it could still break. The glass had been empty when it had fallen, so there wasn’t even any spillage to clean up. But how was the cup still intact?</p><p>It had landed on the solid, stone floor. By all means, the glass should have been broken—utterly shattered—right then. But it wasn’t.</p><p>He held the cup in his hand, inspecting it from all angles in search of hidden cracks, then set it down on the table when he had found none. </p><p>Merlin still hadn’t spoken, and because he looked tired enough to pass out in the middle of the room, Arthur decided to dismiss him early and send him to bed.</p><p>His servant only nodded faintly and turned to leave, but just before exiting Arthur’s chambers, he turned toward him and quietly told him “I’m glad the glass didn’t break. I noticed how you hold it dear.”</p><p>After Merlin had left, Arthur had replayed the incident in his head again and again. The cup should be broken. No matter from what angle it had hit the ground, a fall from that height, to a solid ground … The cup should be broken.</p><p><em>It’s almost like magic</em>, the little voice in his head, that he so desperately tried to ignore, whispered.</p><p><em>Preposterous</em>, he thought. If Merlin was a sorcerer, which he wasn’t, but if he was, how stupid must he be to risk revealing himself to the son of the most ruthless pursuer of sorcerers in all of Albion for a <em>cup</em>?</p><p>But then again… The cup meant a lot to Arthur. Not just because of its fine craftsmanship and worth, but because it had been a gift from Morgana, a glass from her own collection, given into his possession in secret since his father would not approve of his son owning such a delicate item, claiming it to be ‘unbecoming for the future king of Camelot’.</p><p>And even though Arthur had never mentioned it, and Merlin had never asked, the servant had picked up on how much Arthur cherished this particular cup.</p><p>In light of all this, would it be that far fetched to imagine Merlin keeping the glass from breaking, knowing it wasn’t just any replaceable piece of tableware? Would the use of magic in that situation even be deplorable? Wouldn’t it have been far more cruel to let the glass smash to pieces, knowing that this would cause pain to Arthur, and that it could have easily been prevented?</p><p>So even if, he thought, even if Merlin was a sorcerer, and even if he had used magic… had he really done anything wrong? Yes, magic was outlawed in Camelot, but protecting a fragile cup that meant a lot to someone with a spell was hardly the corrupting force of evil his father was always preaching about, right?</p><p>Right.</p><p>But he hadn’t <em>seen</em> Merlin do magic. It could still have all been a big coincidence. Was it really of any use to think about the improbable?</p><p>But, just how improbable was the scenario anyway, because, to Arthur at least, it seemed like Merlin being a sorcerer became more probable every day.</p><p>A few weeks after that incident, there was another notable event, when Arthur had come down to the armory in search of his clean armor for training. Instead, he had found Merlin scrubbing at his chestplate, the rest of the armor lying around him, still caked with dirt. </p><p>Great.</p><p>“<em>Mer</em>lin,” he yelled, “why is my armor not clean yet? I told you to do this yesterday.”</p><p>“Well, you see, I also had to bring you dinner, and make you a bath, and muck the stables, and–” Merlin answered, but Arthur had none of it.</p><p>“I don’t care, just— Hurry up!” He ordered, already making his way back to his chambers. </p><p>However, as soon as he had made it to the next corner, he hesitated. Merlin was right. He had given him a lot to do last night, and even the best manservant there was probably couldn’t have completed all of the chores in such a limited time.</p><p>Without consciously deciding to do so, Arthur had turned around and made his way back to the armory. Part of him wanted to apologize to Merlin—to his friend—but before he could utter a word, he stood still. </p><p>Through the closed door, he faintly heard Merlin talk, but not clearly enough to distinguish any words. He turned the handle and immediately heard Merlin stop talking, followed by a loud noise, like something heavy crashing to the floor.</p><p>The door swung open to reveal Merlin hunched over the floor, picking up pieces of Arthur’s armor. </p><p>Arthur’s shiny, clean armor.</p><p>“How are you finished already?” He asked, dumbstruck.</p><p>Merlin tensed. “What do you mean? I was almost done when you yelled at me two minutes ago. Not that you would have noticed... “ He chuckled. </p><p>“No, I saw it. All of it was still dirty.”</p><p>Merlin chuckled again, but it seemed forced. “Do you feel well, sire? Have you taken a hit to your head recently, since you’re imagining things?”</p><p>Arthur rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Merlin. Just— Help me put this on, I’m already running late.”</p><p>Later, after the training was over, Arthur thought about what had happened. Had he really imagined the dirt? He couldn’t have. But, if he hadn’t, how had Merlin managed to clean his armor so quickly? </p><p><em>Magic</em>, a voice in his head whispered. He shook his head. There could be another, logical explanation. Throwing around accusations wouldn’t do anything, except make him look paranoid. <em>Oh no, his servant managed to be more competent than usual… Sorcery!</em> </p><p>Arthur snorted. Yeah, that sounded like something his father would do. </p><p>In the end, he couldn’t be sure. Could Merlin have used magic? Yes. Would this explain the suddenly pristine armor? Absolutely. But could Merlin have been telling the truth? Could Arthur have imagined the dirt? Could Merlin even deflect from the truth so easily? Yes, yes, and absolutely not. That boy couldn’t lie to save his life.</p><p>Or could he?</p><p>Arthur groaned. This was going nowhere. All he could do, really, was keep paying attention until he had undeniable proof of Merlin being a sorcerer. </p><p>Something that couldn’t be explained away.</p><p>He had to <em>see</em> Merlin do magic in order to fully believe it to be true.</p><p>That piece of undeniable proof, that absolute certainty, didn’t come until the next time they were attacked by bandits when out on patrol, a few months after he’d first become suspicious. </p><p>As always, Merlin fled to hide behind a tree. And as always, swords flew out of hands and branches conveniently knocked out opponents. </p><p>But this time, Arthur’s gaze didn’t follow the arc of his attacker’s sword, or climb to the top of whatever random tree a branch had fallen from. This time, he looked straight at Merlin.</p><p>Merlin, whose eyes shone golden.</p><p>Merlin, whose hands were raised, pointing towards different attackers, incapacitating them if necessary.</p><p>Merlin, making sure no harm came to any of the knights.</p><p>Merlin, looking dangerous, and powerful, and beautiful.</p><p>Arthur could only stare in fascination as Merlin’s eyes returned to their usual blue color, before there was a movement in the corner of his eye and he had to turn around, sword raised, to defend himself.</p><p>It was only hours later, once they had returned to the castle, after he had Merlin serve him dinner and dress him for bed, that the revelation really sank in.</p><p>Merlin really was a sorcerer.</p><p>And it made absolutely no difference to Arthur.</p><p>On the contrary, if anything, he became more protective of his friend. The mere thought of what would happen if someone else would find out someday, if someone else had already found out, if they told his father, if Merlin got sentenced to death, … </p><p>That mere thought was enough for every fiber of his being to rebel.</p><p>No. Merlin could not—<em>would not</em>—die. Arthur wouldn’t allow it. </p><p>If it came to it, he thought, although he hoped it never would, but if it did, if he had to choose between his father and Merlin, he would save Merlin. </p><p>Without a doubt, without hesitation. </p><p>Really, it wouldn’t be a choice at all. He would go against his father’s will, undermine his father’s life’s work in a heartbeat, to protect Merlin from harm, he realized. </p><p>Arthur would do anything to protect Merlin.</p><p>Because Merlin was good and pure and innocent. And magic hadn’t destroyed that.</p><p>If Merlin was trying to keep his magic secret—as he should, at least during the remainder of Uther’s reign—Arthur was not going to challenge him. </p><p>So he bought Merlin’s flimsy excuses, even though they only barely explained his absences. </p><p>So he never addressed Merlin’s exhaustion that always came with one of his absences, except to order him to rest and to take the next day off.</p><p>So he pretended to not notice the golden shine in Merlin’s eyes during attacks, even though he wanted nothing more than to keep looking at the swirling depths within.</p><p>So he pretended not to know, and hoped for the life of him that no one else would find out.</p><p>Because he wanted—needed—to protect Merlin.</p>
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